A Phantom's Carol
by Maxniss Everide
Summary: This is basically Erik's Christmas. This is after "The Phantom of the Opera" story takes place. And this is if he didn't die in the book/movie/musical... -there was no Christmas Carol archive so this is technically a crossover- This summery sucks...
1. Another Scrooge

**Okay, I realize that this should be a crossover, but there is no crossover for _A Christmas Carol. _I don't quite understand why, since I checked the guidlines and it didn't say anything about not writing anything Charles Dickens related. If I somehow missed that, then let me know!**

**So, this is a "crossover" of _The Phantom of the Opera _and _A Christmas Carol_**

**This is sort of my Christmas special to you guys. I won't be updating "Specter of the Theatre" for a while, so I thought I'd give you this while I try to figure out what I'm going to do with that.**

**Disclaimer: _The Phantom of the Opera _belongs to Gaston Leroux and Alexander Loyd Webber (since this is based kind of off both) and _A Christmas Carol _belongs to Charles Dickens.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

Erik wandered aimlessly through the Opera House. He held a small envelope with a letter concealed inside. Erik wanted to make the moment more suspenseful, so he waited until someone actually walked beneath the rafters that he walked upon before he dropped the note.

The note dropped on the person's head and they scratched it in disbelief. What had fallen on their head? As they reached for their head, they realized it was a note from the Opera Ghost. As the person looked up at him, Erik wasn't surprised to find that the person was Madame Giry, holding his note.

"Erik, you really should stop doing that", she scolded him as if he were a child.

"What?"

"Dropping notes on the floor like that. It's just unnecessary. We have a mail box outside!"

Erik shook his head.

"No, you see, Madame Giry", he swooped his cape. "That just isn't my style."

And he ran through the rafters to another section of the building, where he could observe the managers when Madame Giry would give them the note.

Twenty minutes later, after waiting in a secret passage behind a wall of the managers' office, Erik finally heard Madame Giry's voice calling to the managers.

"I just received a note from the Opera Ghost!"

"Well, what does he want this time?" Firmin shouted. They were just discussing their thoughts on a Christmas Opera when they were so rudely interrupted.

Andre, who was standing beside Firmin, grabbed the letter from Giry and read:

"_Dear Managers,_

_You won't be doing a Christmas opera this year. It is such a waste of time and money anyway trying to put on such a show. You know that we need all that money for more important things. _

_Oh, speaking of more important things and money, you have forgotten to pay my salary and I would very much appreciate it if you give it to me soon. Oh, and by the way, I believe that we should raise the price another 5 percent, don't you think? Yes, we shall raise my salary. Otherwise, you may be faced with such a horrible enemy._

_Now about the opera: I believe that a Christmas opera would be such a waste of time since no one really wants to hear anyone sing Christmas music in an opera house. Naturally, they would prefer to listen to carolers on the street corners since they would be singing the same things. No, a different opera shall be performed. You know what may happen if you do not obey me._

_Your kind and obedient servant,_

_O.G."_

"Really, really the Opera Ghost is going to try to stop us from performing a Christmas opera?" scoffed Firmin.

"He's told us to do just about everything else, why can't he let us have this one thing…?" Andre whined.

"_Because then you would forget that I am in control of this place, not you…_" Erik let his voice echo over the room in a loud whisper.

Madame Giry turned towards the wall the opposite of him, and scolded it as she usually scolded him, "Now, Erik, you know what I told you about throwing your voice in rooms and not letting the managers have their privacy."

Erik had to hold in a chuckle. After all these years, she still didn't know where his secret wall in the managers' office was.

Firmin rolled his eyes and twirled his finger around his head to Andre, indicating that Madame Giry wasn't all the way there…

The Opera Ghost watched as the trio walked outside once Madame Giry was done talking to the imaginary person in the other wall. They thought they had escaped him, but all he needed to do was turn around and watch them on the other side.

"Just listen to him; it will be much easier", advised Giry once they were outside the office.

"Easy for you to say", laughed Andre. "He's not threatening to kill you."

_Killing her wouldn't be such a bad idea… _Erik mused. _She has been getting quite annoying lately…_

"And it's because he's threatening to kill you that you should listen to him", Giry persuaded. "After all, you don't want the ghost mad at you again, do you?"

"No," agreed Firmin. "But why must the Ghost hate Christmas? It is such a cheerful time of year."

"Maybe the Ghost doesn't have anything to be cheerful about", defended Giry.

Firmin and Andre snorted and laughed. They shook their heads and muttered to themselves, "Of course he's unhappy, or else he wouldn't torture us…" Then they left Madame Giry all by herself.

Madame Giry said to no one in particular, "Yes, you are a very unhappy man, Erik." Then she walked off on her own, probably to go bother Meg.

Erik eased his way through the wall back into the rafters of the Opera house. He was surprised that they didn't complain about his raise in salary. He smiled to himself. Maybe they didn't only care about money…

Then he heard a high- pitched scream.

"Wait, he raised his salary! That moron actually thinks he's getting more money out of us!"

Erik was pretty positive that was Andre, but maybe Firmin's voice could go that high too…

Erik found his way to his lair and plopped himself into one of his chairs. He heard footsteps creeping closer to him.

"Hello, Christine", he said to the approaching person. "You're late."

"I know Erik, but I"-

"Don't be late again; otherwise that little husband of yours might not be so lucky next time…"

"Oh, I won't be late next time, I promise! It's only that Susan was up all night again and"-

Erik didn't even turn towards her as he put up his hand.

"I don't need any explanation. The point is that you were tardy once again. If you keep on doing this, then who else will help me run this Opera House?"

Christine looked down to the ground. There had been Nadir, but he had been killed in Persia a few years ago.

"No one", she muttered.

"Go to my office and file these papers", he barked.

Christine remembered a time when Erik taught her to sing. Oh, how she missed those days! Now all he had her do was file papers and write letters to the managers. She didn't quite understand why he still let her come help, but she knew that the only reason she still went to him was for her meager salary of 15 francs that he gave her for her help.

He shoved the papers into her trembling hands and she was off to Erik's "office" otherwise known as his music room. It was probably plans for world domination, since he had already dominated the Opera House. Christine would hate to see Erik as a world dictator. The world would no longer be a place of peace and tranquility.

When she returned, Erik was playing the organ, possibly composing- again. She wondered if he ever did anything else. She would say that he might still be obsessing over her, but after she broke his heart, she doubted that.

He looked up from his music and told her to write a letter in red ink to the managers, since they could never read his handwriting. He knew that the only people who knew Christine's handwriting were Meg Giry and Madame Giry, and they would never expose Christine as helping the Phantom.

Ever since Christine had been helping him, he was able to get his messages across to the managers much easier. Before, they had mistaken 20,000 francs for 12 francs and they only gave him that amount until he had to correct him. Also, they thought that the Opera Ghost would drop a bunny on Carlotta's head when he had said that he was going to drop a sandbag on her head. Curse his horrible handwriting!

In annoyance, Erik took out a random money bag that he had next to him and began to count the 20,000 francs inside. Why was he counting it? He already knew how much was in there! Maybe he was going to buy more candles with it…

He honestly didn't know.

Christine was copying a letter to the managers from a copy that Erik had written for her. He had done this because their experiences with him dictating the letters to her didn't go very well…

**Flashback**

"_Dear managers," Erik dictated._

_Christine wrote it down._

"_I would like to make a new suggestion for the Opera."_

_Christine began to write that down also, but abruptly stopped._

"_Erik, how do you spell 'Opera'?"_

_Erik groaned. He should have chosen someone who knew how to spell._

"_O-P-R-A"_

_As Christine began to write that down, she paused and looked at Erik. _

"_I think there's a letter missing, Erik!"_

_Erik growled, "Which one?"_

"_I don't know! I think there's an 'E' in there somewhere!"_

_Erik had had enough of this._

"_JUST PUT THE STUPID 'E' IN THERE SOMEWHERE AND LET ME FINISH MY LETTER, YOU STUPID GIRL!"_

_Frightened, Christine scribbled an 'E' at the end of the word spelling "Oprae". _

_Erik continued on dictating, "This year, we should feature a different kind of Opera than we normally play. And instead of Carlotta as the lead, as she usually is, we shall feature Christine as the lead"-_

"_Slow down, Erik, I can't write that fast!"_

"_Well, write faster!"_

_Then Christine stopped writing completely. Erik glared at her._

"_Now what?" he questioned._

"_I don't want to be the lead again! Erik, I'm tired and I just want to be in the chorus again!"_

_Erik rolled his eyes._

"_And why is that? Who wouldn't want the lead? What more could you ask for?"_

_An exasperated Christine answered, "I'm always the lead now and I never seem to get a break! Also, you have to remember, I'm married now, and I'd like some time with my husband once in a while"-_

"_I told you to never mention him in my presence, Christine", Erik warned._

_Without thinking, Christine put a hand to her stomach. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell Erik that she was pregnant with Raoul's child…._

_Erik composed himself and finally said, "Alright, Christine, you won't be the lead this time. But never mention that fop in my presence ever again."_

_So they went on, Erik dictating as Christine wrote, until Christine cried out in pain._

"_WHAT?" Erik practically screamed. He used to run over to Christine and try to help her, but ever since she went with the fop, his compassion for her weakened._

"_My… hand…hurts…" she whimpered._

"_Fine", he barked. "I'll write the rest of it. You may go."_

_Puzzled, she asked, "What… don't you want me to do something else…?"_

"_No, you've done enough already! GO!"_

_Then, Christine took the other secret passage to her dressing room (the other one was the canal and the gondola and the mirror, but she didn't like that passage as much). _

**End Flashback**

That had been the last time that Erik had dictated something to her. Ever since, he wrote the letter beforehand and had given it to her to copy for the managers to read.

Still, there were issues with this method too.

"Erik, does this say, 'Duke' or 'Duck'?"

Erik rolled his eyes as he still continued to count his francs for the new set of candles that he had been wanting for some time.

"Just read the sentence and look for context clues. You'll see which one makes more sense."

Christine stared long and hard and decided that it must be "duck".

Later, two ballet rats found their way into Erik's lair and saw Christine. They waved at Christine and Christine waved back. She knew the two girls from a while back when she had been in the ballet.

"Hello, Mister, uh… Opera Ghost..?" One greeted.

Erik snorted, "Well, who else would I be?"

They chuckled nervously and the other one went on, "Well, um… we were kind of looking for donations for the starving women and children on the streets. You see, we were going to raise money for the ballet, but Madame Giry noticed all the poor families on the streets and we thought that we would want to give them a good Christmas this year…"

"So you want money from me, then?"

"Yes! Oh thank you, how much are you willing to put towards this cause?" asked a relieved girl.

Christine knew what Erik was going to say. She turned her head away.

"Nothing, thank you", he said as he folded his hands together in his lap.

"Oh, well, if you don't want Madame Giry knowing it's from you, then we won't put down your name…"

Erik shook his head.

"No, Mademoiselles, you don't understand. I wish to be left alone. This means no interruptions from either of you, or Madame Giry, or anyone else in this Opera House!"

Shaken, one of them defended, "But, Phantom, it's Christmas! You can't just let these poor families starve!"

Erik smiled cruelly.

"Well, if they can't support themselves in this world like I could, then let them die."

Everyone in the room gasped, excluding Erik. Christine had spun around in her chair. Even after all the years she had known Erik, she had never heard him say anything so cruel. Yes, he had murdered people and had kidnapped her and almost killed Raoul, but this was worse. It was one thing to be the one at the rope choking someone, it was another to ignore those who were dying.

Erik glared at the two ballet rats as he commanded them, "Now, please let yourselves out the same way you came in before I decide to never let you see the light of day again."

Quickly, both girls shuffled out of Erik's lair by way of the gondola.

Erik smirked as he watched them leave, but all Christine could do was gape at the masked man. What had he done?

He turned back to her, "Well, what are you staring at? Get back to work!"

Hesitantly, Christine scribbled more words onto the paper.

After about twenty more minutes, Christine had finished writing the letter. She folded it up and put it in its envelope in which she had inscribed 'O.G'.

She filed the letter in a black folder. She was certain that he wouldn't be using this letter for a while.

Then she turned to Erik, who was absentmindedly gazing across the lake.

"Uh, Erik?"

He turned to face Christine.

Christine gathered her courage and asked, "Since Nadir died, you haven't had anyone to spend Christmas with and I was wondering…"

Erik chuckled, "If I could come to your house and have your husband try to kill me? No thank you. I prefer to not celebrate Christmas anyway."

"But…"

"No, I won't and that's the end of it. Now, please leave before I decide to hold you here forever."

Just as Christine reached the doorway of the secret passage, she turned back.

"Am I getting the day off tomorrow?"

Erik sighed; he hadn't considered that Christine would want the day off for Christmas.

"Well, I suppose so. You obviously have someone to celebrate with, don't you?" he practically sneered.

Christine only looked down, feeling guilt wash over her all over again.

Erik straightened up out of his seat and told her, "Very well, but you must be early the next morning. Otherwise…"

"You'll Punjab Raoul, I know. Oh, thank you!"

And she rushed out without another word.

**That was Chapter one! Okay, one chapter per ghost, got it? Yup, this is going to be very interesting.**

**So, please tell me how you like my Christmas special! **

**Which means PLEASE REVIEW!**

**;P**


	2. Nadir not Marley

**Okay, this is going to be intense, but I seriously tried to make it funny too. Actually, I think there's some irony in here. And I tried to make it different from certain things that Dicken's did because you know, if it were exactly the same then you'd be asleep and be like, "All you did was change the setting and the names!" So I tried to break away from the same old thing.**

**Anyway, here it is**

Erik walked through the Opera house deep in thought. How would he be able to convince those buffoons that called themselves managers that his salary should be raised? And how did those two ballet rats find his lair? Did Madame Giry tell them where he lived? He was going to kill that woman… eventually… someday…

But all this thought was to no avail. So he finally decided that perhaps a good night's sleep would do him some good.

He preferred his gondola way, since it took much more time to get to his lair that way than the secret passage that Christine had gone through earlier. Of course, Christine wasn't in her dressing room at that moment, so it was perfectly fine for him to enter the room to go through the mirror.

"_Erik…" _whispered a voice. _"Phantom of the Opera…"_

Suddenly, another figure appeared in the mirror besides him. The Phantom jumped in surprise. That was the same trick that he had used on Christine! The only question was who was this other person?

But the image disappeared as soon as it had come and Erik felt himself begin to relax. Then he opened the mirror's latch and entered the corridor.

It was a few minutes of travel, but he didn't mind it so much. He only missed leading Christine through this passageway to go to his lair. But he was over it – sort of… maybe… no.

When Erik got to the lake, he climbed into the gondola and grabbed the oar angrily. Why did everything have to be so complicated at this time of year? Didn't people know that others might wish to be left alone at Christmas?

Apparently, people did not.

Without warning, the top of the oar in Erik's hands began to change. He dropped the oar abruptly and let it fall in the small boat. The Opera Ghost's eyes widened as he realized what the top of the oar had changed into.

"Nadir…" he breathed.

As soon as he said this, however, the ghost of a face disappeared off of the oar. Shakily, Erik grabbed the oar and examined it. No Nadir, not even a small remnant that the dead man's face had even been there. It must have been the stress of the events of the day. That's probably what was making him see things.

Erik pulled the gondola into its spot near his lair. While he was doing this, he noticed a shadow run across the walls. It was a strange shadow, unlike the ones that the lake reflected. He shook his head thinking to himself that only stress could be making him see things. But to his horror, his mask fell in the lake as he did this.

"No, Mark! If you're gone then no one will shield my face!"

He grasped dramatically at the air as if that would make Mark the mask reappear on his face.

There were a few moments of silence before another voice penetrated the walls.

"You actually named your mask Mark?"

Erik growled then barked, "Shut up, Nadir."

Then realizing what he just said, he spun around to face his dead comrade. But the man was not there.

"Where are you, Nadir? Even in death, you cannot hide from me."

He didn't care that his face was no longer masked. If only Nadir were to see it, then so be it.

But Nadir was dead.

Though he could not mask his face, he could mask his fear.

"Where are you hiding, old friend?"

He searched his whole lair, but it was all in vain. The ghost couldn't be found. With that, Erik wrote it off as stress from trying to organize the Opera House and sighed a breath of relief. Then he plopped down on his bench and played his organ.

He decided to play the score of _Don Juan Triumphant _since no one would be listening anyway. Erik smiled to himself as he did this. It was such a dark opera, but it still was simply wonderful.

Then, one of the keys began to play all on its own. Then another.

And another.

And another.

Finally, all the keys on the organ began to play on their own until they were playing a different tune. It was one of the famous Christmas tunes "Oh Come Ye, Merry Gentlemen".

All of a sudden, it stopped.

Erik tried to play _Don Juan _again, but the keys wouldn't play. He looked around him, bewildered. How could he possibly be imagining _this_?

In a distance, Erik heard the galloping of horses. Caesar or the other opera house horses?

If Caesar escaped, then he was going to have to kill someone. Who knew, maybe he'd kill the horse.

"_Erik…. Erik…."_

Suddenly, "Carol of the Bells" began playing on the organ and nothing Erik did stopped their sound.

So Erik did what all manly men did when disturbing things happened: He screamed and hid under the organ bench.

He felt a sigh go throughout the room. It blew out all the candles and the lake became even more still than it had been.

_It's not fair! _He thought. _I'm supposed to be the one doing all these tricks, not some stupid _real _ghost!_

Obviously, Erik didn't like having a taste of his own medicine.

Then he heard someone or something laughing.

"Erik, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Nadir?" Erik questioned, still shaking under the bench.

"Yes", answered the voice.

"Nadir, why are you haunting me now? Couldn't you have waited a few more years?"

Erik was beginning to get out from under the bench, but he hit his head on the bottom of it.

"This is what I get for being abnormally tall…" he muttered to himself.

There was a chuckle from _right above him._

"Up here, old friend."

Erik looked up only to hit his head again. Nadir sat above him on the organ bench.

He looked quite the same as he had when he was alive, only he was a pale white with sort of a gold glow to him. He wore a white suit, as far as Erik could tell, and he seemed to be radiating something. Was it joy?

Nadir smiled sadly.

"Yes, same old Erik."

However, the Opera Ghost ignored this and yelled, "Get off my bench you slave of fashion! You fop! You"-

"Are you quite finished?" Nadir's ghost asked impatiently.

"No", said a stubborn Erik. "In life you weren't allowed to touch the organ, and in death you still don't get that privilege!"

Narrowing his dead eyes, Nadir poked an organ key, though it only passed through the key.

Yet Erik didn't notice this and screamed at the ghost, "How dare you! Now I will kill you!"

This was indeed quite strange since Erik grabbed his Punjab lasso and tried to strangle the ghost to death. However, this didn't make much sense as to why Erik thought he could kill a ghost, since the lasso also passed through the entity.

Erik stared at Nadir in amazement as though he only just begun to realize that he was threatening a ghost (actually, trying to kill a ghost, but still). Then he sat on the bench next to his dead friend.

"What do you want, Nadir?" he asked rather impatiently.

Nadir raised an eyebrow. "Why should I tell you? You don't believe I'm really here."

Erik laughed, "Well, it's a little hard to believe, considering that I can do all of those tricks and I'm still alive."

Nadir rolled his eyes, "Does anything impress you, Erik?"

Erik opened his mouth to speak when Nadir stopped him.

"Besides that soprano, Christine?"

Erik closed his mouth.

Nadir nodded and said, "Yes, I thought as much."

"Cheap tricks don't impress me", Erik said somewhat randomly after a few moments of silence.

"I think we've established that", Nadir huffed.

Erik nervously tapped on the edges of the bench, just waiting for Nadir to give him an explanation.

Nadir decided that he would give Erik an explanation, but only because he didn't want the Phantom to keep on tapping on the bench.

"Look, you haven't been treating people right"-

"Thank you Captain Obvious", Erik murmured, but Nadir still heard him.

"Exactly my point. See, you don't treat people like you should, Erik. Treat them as you would to yourself"-

"I do. I treat them as they always do to me, with contempt and ruefulness."

Nadir growled inwardly. How was that Marley fellow doing with that man named Scrooge back in London? He was probably having much more luck than he was with Mr. "I'm A Fake Ghost but I Scream like a Girl When a Real One Comes".

"Erik, see this?"

Erik looked at the chains that Nadir held in his hands. It was strange since none of them were attached to the ghost at all. What was going on?

Erik only nodded, unsure about what he was seeing.

"I created these chains throughout my life. Each link is what I fabricated. This is my sins that weigh me down."

Erik nodded, hoping that Nadir would just 'poof' like all good ghosts do.

"Well, I'm not wearing them now, Erik, because I was redeemed. I've discovered the true meaning of life and of Christmas."

Erik laughed, "Kind of too late for that, you're dead."

"Thanks for the reminder", Nadir said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "The point is that you have a second chance too!"

Grimacing, Erik gritted, "Oh, really? Well, I think I'm fine on my own, thank you."

Nadir sat up from his seat on the bench and looked down at his old friend.

"I want to help you, Erik. And so do a few other ghosts I know. They will be visiting you tonight. The first one at twelve o'clock, the second at one o'clock, and the third will appear when he wants to."

Erik chuckled, "I can't wait until I meet the last one; he sounds more like me."

Nadir sighed, "So just watch out for them. Don't fall asleep, please. If they have to wake you up… well, I know how grouchy you can get if someone has to wake you up. I don't think they would like that all that much."

Erik growled, "Good, it'd be better for them to leave me alone."

Suddenly, Nadir got dangerously close to Erik. With his ghostly face right in front of Erik's exposed deformed one, the real ghost warned, "If you don't consider help from them, then you will regret it for the rest of your eternity, Erik. You finally have hope at getting a better life. Don't waste it."

Then the entity began to slowly float away and disappeared into the wall.

Erik began to breathe again. Nadir had never been so frightening when he knew him, but when the man was a ghost; he seemed to have a sense of charisma.

He found his way to his bed, which was really a coffin, and crept into it. He lifted the lid and pulled it over him, but still leaving a little space for him to breathe. He wasn't dead yet.

As he just began to relax, he heard someone clear their throat.

Erik looked up angrily, only to find Nadir's ghost staring him right in the face.

"Ahhh! I mean, uh, hello Nadir", he welcomed, trying to compose himself.

Nadir rolled his eyes and handed Erik something.

"You might need it. I don't think the other ghosts are used to looking at you just yet."

Erik glared at his friend as he snatched his mask.

"Thanks for being so kind. I'm sure they wouldn't care."

Nadir snorted, "Really, you scream every time you look in the mirror."

Erik tried to sit up, but he hit his head on the coffin lid.

"Darn, curse my height!"

Nadir laughed, "Height has nothing to do with it."

Then Nadir disappeared again.

Angrily, Erik twisted the mask back on his face and lay back down in the coffin.

After a few more minutes, Nadir was back again.

"Did I mention to not look for me anymore?"

Erik narrowed his eyes at him and answered, "I wasn't planning too."

Then Nadir's ghost disappeared once more, and Erik never saw him again.

**How'd you like it? Come on, you wanna tell me...**

**All you have to do is click the magic button below. Remember, it is not the quantity of reviews that an author gets, but the quality. **

**But even if you don't know what to say, then just tell me you liked it or hated it or whatever!**

**;D**


	3. The Author's Dilemma

**I would just like to say that I, the author of this pitiful story, am in a dilemma.**

**I'm pathetic, because I didn't finish reading Leroux's book _The Phantom of the Opera_. So I don't know if it really covers Erik's past. However, if anyone has any legit background on Erik's past, besides the fact that he was with gypsies for some time, because trust me, that's all I know. **

**So, I can't really continue this unless someone fills me in on his past- and trust me, I don't care if it "spoils" the story for me, because I honestly do want to continue this.**

**And you know, it would be nice to know that people actually like my story... because right now I feel like I'm just writing this story for a wall.**

**Oh, but I will still read the book, trust me, but it would be much quicker if someone filled me in. Thanks!**

**;D**

**Maxniss**


	4. Madame Giry: The Ghost of Christmas Past

**Here is the promised chapter. **

**Thank you woland666, my anymonous reviewer for helping me with Erik's past and Horses of Shadow and Night, thanks for suggesting the Susan Kay novel, but I wouldn't be able to get it and read it in time to update. But thanks ;)**

**Oh, and PeaceRoseG'ladheon, I hope you like the Phantom of the Opera book as much as I did!**

**Not as funny as I had hoped, but I hope you enjoy it!**

Erik had fallen asleep.

It was a wonder that he didn't wake the whole opera house with his snoring. It sounded as though cannons were going off in his lair. However, nothing got peace down there when he wasn't snoring because he would also talk in his sleep. Actually, that would be giving it much too much justice; he would scream and yell in his sleep (mainly for Christine, asking why she had left him, death threats for the fop- uh, Raoul, and such).

Suddenly, a light appeared in Erik's gloomy room. Though Erik had been sound asleep in the dark coffin, the light seemed so bright, that it filtered through his coffin and into his eyes. Immediately, the Phantom shielded his eyes with his hands and growled. Who would dare shine a light in his eyes?

He slid the lid of the coffin back and faced someone he really didn't want to talk to. Of all people, it was Madame Giry. Erik wasn't too surprised to see her, she knew the way to his lair. So he slid back into his coffin and rolled over.

Giry sighed.

"Erik, get up."

"No," he groaned like a child.

"You really shouldn't sleep in a coffin, but I'm sure Madame Giry has already nagged you about that before."

Surprised, Erik looked up from his coffin bed.

"You're beginning to scare me, Madame. You do realize that you are speaking in third person, don't you?"

At this, the Madame laughed, "No, you're mistaken, Erik. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. I only took the form of Madame Giry to keep you from trying to strangle me."

The Opera Ghost cocked his head.

"But if you're a ghost, then you wouldn't need to worry about getting killed."

The ghost lifted her chin.

"True, but it would simply waste time. Speaking of which, we already wasted enough getting you out of that silly coffin. Come now, Erik."

Indeed, the Phantom did climb out of his coffin, but he still wasn't fully convinced that the "ghost" was who she said she was. In fact, he still considered her Madame Giry.

He stood in front of her, looking down at her quite conceitedly. The Opera Ghost even smirked.

"You don't frighten me", he told her smoothly.

"Of course not", she replied, though it was comical since she had to crane her neck to speak to him. "You don't believe in me, just like you didn't believe in Nadir."

Erik scoffed, "You haven't given me much to go by."

He noticed that she held something in her hand.

"What's that?"

The Ghost of Christmas Past held it up for him. It was a hat, much like the one that he had worn for Christine when he had kidnapped- uh, shown her to his lair (this makes sense if you've seen the musical or at least seen pictures of the musical).

Erik flinched when he saw it, no good memories flooded back to him. They were all filled with poison and hate.

Angrily, he asked, "Why don't you just wear that stupid hat if you carry it around so much?"

The Ghost seemed appalled as she hid the hat behind her, "I'm here to give you Truth! Do you want to hide Truth?"

Erik considered it, "Actually, Madame, that wouldn't be so bad, considering what I have been through."

"Well, I'm still not wearing it. I think it fits you better."

Erik rolled his eyes. His hat that was like that was in the next room. He didn't feel like getting another one.

"There are a lot of memories tied to this hat, aren't there, Erik?"

Erik only groaned, "Just tell me what you want."

"I'm here to show you your past."

He chuckled, "No, I mean, really? What is it you want?"

The Ghost held out her hand.

"Come with me."

Erik only stared at it.

"At least give it a chance, Erik", she persuaded.

Not thinking that it would really hurt, Erik grabbed the ghost's hand. A strange sensation coursed throughout his entire body as he did so. The Ghost of Christmas Past's hand had once been hollow and had as much feeling as a mist, but all of a sudden, it seemed to be flesh.

Erik looked around him and realized that they were no longer in his lair. They were far away from his lair, in fact. It was his old home.

He looked down, hoping beyond all hopes that the Ghost wouldn't take him in there. Then, something hit him.

"How'd you get me here, Madame?"

"I told you who I am, Erik. You must believe me."

Erik glared at her, "I need more than this to prove it."

But The Ghost of Christmas Past gave him a strange look.

"I think you just want me to turn into Christine instead of staying as Madame Giry. Even if I did that, you'd still feel the same. However, I feel that you may change your mind about believing me after we're through."

Once again, Erik rolled his eyes.

Then she gently pulled Erik into the house.

Erik attempted to grab his Punjab in defense, but found that it was not there.

The Ghost smiled coyly at this.

"Oh, that is back in your lair. I know that you cannot hurt me or anyone else you see in these visions, but it would be such a distraction, wouldn't it?"

Erik only growled to himself, but knew that it was no use to try to strangle a ghost. Then he looked at the house again.

"Do you miss it?" she asked.

Erik shook his head, "I hardly even remember it. It's been so long since I've been here…" Then he interrupted himself. "You're not going to make me go in there, are you?"

Laughing, the ghost replied, "Why, are you frightened that they will see you and recognize you? Remember, these are only shadows of the past- of what already happened. There is no way that we will be seen or heard."

This time, Erik couldn't wriggle away from her grasp; they had already magically appeared in the living room.

He still attempted to leave, but the Ghost of Christmas past grabbed his arm in a firm grip. The Phantom was shocked that it was even possible that someone could hold him there like that.

So, he complied, too his own dismay, and watched his past unfold.

A pitiful tree sat in the corner as a child played with some small string beside it. Erik looked at dismay at the child. He was about three years old and had dark black hair. His eyes were a strange hue and would glow, but could really only be seen glowing in the dark. However, no one could see his face, but only his mouth, for a black mask covered the whole upper half of his face.

In the other room, the parents of these children could be overheard by the two unseen and unheard visitors.

"_Well, what are we to do with the boy? We've had him for three years and still nothing has happened. Are you sure that it will just 'go away'?"_ They could hear the mother say.

"_It has to! You know what people would think if they heard that we had a son with a disfigured face!"_

"_But his eyes, I've heard that children start out with blue eyes first, and as they grow up, their eyes change, but he- his… his eyes GLOW!"_

A large _thud _could be heard, and the three year old Erik looked towards the kitchen in puzzlement. The little boy couldn't hear what his mother said after that, so he only played with his miniature mask.

However, the Ghost and the adult Erik could hear the father mutter, _"She had to go and faint again. Ever since he was born, this has happened more frequently…"_ He sighed and they could hear him drag his wife out of the kitchen.

The adult Erik turned his face away from that room and looked fondly at the child playing. He felt his mask unsurely and demanded, "Take me away from here."

The Ghost rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. However, the only thing that changed was the room. A different tree, smaller and unhealthier than the first, lay shrouded in a small corner away from neighbor's eyes. No ornaments or anything else festive could be traced within the house. A young couple sat in what appeared to be desolation. Erik immediately recognized them as his parents, though he hadn't seen them in so long.

The Ghost of Christmas Past turned to him.

"You see, Erik, even though you thought that they didn't love you because of your face, they saw who you were inside as a person and wanted you back"-

"_We've lost so much"_, Erik's mother lamented.

The Ghost of Christmas Past smiled smugly at Erik.

Then Erik's father answered, _"I guess it all began after I lost that chess game."_

Erik raised his exposed eyebrow.

"_No, Dear_", Erik's mother reassured her husband. "_It was before that. I-I just can't remember what it was…"_

"_The child_", Erik's father said angrily.

"_Oh yes, well, he's gone now, and good riddance. I could never stand his face- but that's something for a different time._

_I think it was ever since you began your obsession over Opera_."

"Opera?" Erik echoed with a laugh. "The man never appreciated anything so great in his life!"

"How do you know? You weren't there to see him grow old, see his interests change", The Ghost questioned him.

They watched the couple sit in silence until Erik voiced, "So what does this have to do with them missing me?"

The Ghost looked at him and answered simply, "Nothing, I just told you that to get you to pay attention. Now come on, there's more that I have to show you!"

He caught glimpses of his past as they raced back through a time vortex. Erik saw himself much younger, on Christmas Eve exhibiting himself as the "Living Corpse". Those who didn't have loved ones to see would stop and glance at him, but mainly people had ignored him that day. It reminded him of many Christmases he had doing that.

Next, he saw his many Christmases with the gypsies and Christmases spent in Asia- too many to count that The Ghost of Christmas Past didn't spend too much time with those memories. Erik caught a glimpse of the flashback of a gypsy giving him a monkey with symbols. He silently remembered still having it in his home.

Finally, the Ghost stopped at one of his most unpleasant Christmas memories. A younger version of Erik inspected the great edifice before him. It wasn't completely finished, but it was indeed according to his plans, so it seemed. Laborers worked around him as he studied the plans. It was Christmas day, and they were still being forced to work.

One of the laborers tried singing and others joined him later on. However, Erik knew why they were only paid to work: they were lousy singers. The younger Erik yelled at the men, "_Be silent now, or you may be silent for eternity_". It was indeed the same old Erik- mean, cruel, and full of very clever death threats.

"What were you building, Erik?" the Ghost asked most curiously.

"I don't wish to speak of it", Erik replied, quite tired of the Ghost's nagging. She was worse than Madame Giry. He made a mental note to not "accidently" kill Giry now.

A man stood on the currently unstable roof of the building and began to sing again in a very high-pitched and off-key voice. Without even glancing his way, the younger Erik took a random bottle lying on the ground and threw it with perfect aim at the man. The bottle barely brushed against him, but it caught him off-balance and the poor man fell off the roof.

It got all the other men to get back to their work.

"They don't seem happy, Erik. You took them away from their loved ones and families."

Erik scoffed, "At least some of them had families to go to."

The Ghost swirled her finger around and announced, "Why don't we see what happens later."

Suddenly, the scene changed before them. All the laborers had long gone, and the young Erik still remained. Alone, he measured the building. Alone, he built upon it. Alone, he worked on the palace.

"You were alone, Erik. You were all alone so you decided to build the palace on your own. You did the same for the opera house too, am I right?" The Ghost of Christmas Past supplied.

Erik growled, "I really wish I had my Punjab right now."

"Wouldn't do you any good," the Ghost muttered.

The man shivered in the cold before them. Not even the man who had employed him came to check on his progress. Neither did the sultana or any of the laborers. Not even Nadir checked to see if he were alright. The poor deformed man worked all alone.

Then, something unexpected happened. A song began to play. Erik didn't remember this happening to him on that night. He looked around. Where was the music coming from?

_All by myself_

_Don't wanna be_

_All by myself_

_Anymore_

_All by myself_

_Don't wanna live_

_All by myself_

_Anymore_

The Ghost of Christmas Past yelled to the sky. "That's not funny, Ghost of Christmas Present! Turn off the stereo!"

Erik was confused.

"What's a stereo? Is it some type of homicidal device?"

The Ghost ignored him as she snapped her fingers and brought them to their next destination.

"Christine…." Erik breathed.

Indeed, it was Christine before him. She stood in her dressing room singing one of Erik's compositions that he had written especially for her. He began to make his way towards her, seeing that she still looked as young as she once was, before the fop….

"It's in the past; she cannot see you," the Ghost of Christmas Past clarified.

"I know", Erik snapped back. "But if she cannot see me, then I can still move towards her.

The Ghost rolled her eyes.

The Phantom was startled when he heard his own voice in the room, but remembered that these things that he was witnessing were past events, therefore, he would still be there teaching her.

"_Christine, the last note was flat, but otherwise, you were flawless."_

"_Thank you, Angel", _Christine gratified, still with a radiant face after her song.

"_Will you still return to me tomorrow?" _

Christine sighed as she shook her head.

"_It's Christmas day tomorrow! I need to see Mama Valarius _**(A/N: Sorry if I didn't spell that name right. I didn't feel like looking through my Kindle to find the correct spelling for that. But you know who I'm talking about, right?) **_Tomorrow since she doesn't have any family besides me to spend it with. Otherwise, I'd be more than happy to come."_

Erik could hear the sigh throughout the room. He inwardly wondered how Christine could not be completely freaked out by him for acting that way.

"_Very well, but you must come the next day. Do you understand?"_

"_Oh yes, thank you, Angel!"_

The girl seemed overjoyed as she exited the room.

The scene dispersed before them.

"You made her really happy, Erik. It could have gone on that way, but"-

Erik spun on the Ghost and stood so close that he spat in her face, "Don't you dare lecture me on love. I did nothing wrong. It was simply wrong timing. If I had brought her to my world sooner, before the fop came, then she would have been mine. I already know about that."

The Ghost of Christmas Past didn't flinch.

"No, you don't understand, Erik. I don't think you ever did. Not about Christmas and not about love."

Erik had enough of her. Without even thinking, he grabbed the Ghost's hat and pulled it down over her head. All she told him was, "You can't hide the Truth, Erik. You cannot conceal it forever." Then, as she disappeared along with her hat, Erik once again found himself in his lair next to his coffin. Growling that the Ghost had wasted his sleeping time, he crawled back into the coffin like all annoyed Opera Ghosts do.

**Okay, like I said, not as funny as I had hoped. Also, if you didn't like how I portrayed his past, I'm sorry, but I based it off Leroux. Most of it for me is the musical with some elements of Leroux. By the way, I FINISHED THE BOOK! YAY! Now I know what a bunch of people are talking about on here now! Like the Fifth Celler thing. Wow, that made me feel so dumb. **

**So anyway, enough of my rambling. Please Review!**

**Thanks! ;D**


	5. Raoul de Chagny: Enough Said

**Why hello there! Yes, I realize it isn't Christmas anymore! I'm not dumb! It's just that I never got time to update this! I'm going to finish the rest of this story this weekend okay? Good. Thank you and read on!**

Erik however, couldn't fall asleep, so he got out of the coffin and paced the floor. A few moments before the next hour, he collapsed from delayed exhaustion onto the floor.

He awoke when he felt someone prodding him with something. The Phantom looked up angrily to find the Vicomte de Chagny poking him with a ten foot pole.

"I couldn't sleep all night Monsieur de Chagny", he snarled at the Vicomte. "Can't you just leave me alone? You have her now, spend time with your wife." And Erik turned over on the floor.

Raoul groaned, "Do you want me to poke you again? I'll keep on doing it until you get up."

Suddenly, Erik leapt up and grabbed his Punjab lasso, which had been lying on the floor beside him.

"Raise your hand to the level of your eyes, Vicomte!" The Phantom sneered. Raoul didn't even flinch. The lasso went through the man's neck.

Erik took a step back from the person and glared into his eyes.

"You're another one, are you?"

What appeared to be Raoul brushed himself off, grumbling something under his breath that Erik couldn't hear.

Erik folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'."

He watched the ghost examine his nails.

Erik cleared his throat.

"Well, fop, are you not going to have the courtesy of introducing yourself? The other ghost at least seemed to have acquired some manners."

The ghost cackled, making Erik laugh nervously. The poor Phantom didn't quite understand: fops weren't supposed to randomly break out into evil laughter.

In a manner that the ghost tried to make suspenseful, he proclaimed, "I am The Ghost of Christmas Present!"

Erik yawned.

The Ghost of Christmas Present defended, "Hey, I'm not that boring!"

The Phantom of the Opera grinned.

"You just admitted that you were boring."

Appalled, the Ghost yelled, "No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Didn't!"

"Did!"

"Silence!" A voice was heard throughout the cavern.

The Ghost of Christmas Present shivered.

"The Ghost of Christmas Past always nags me. Okay, let's go." Squirming, he reached unsurely for Erik's gloved hand.

Without hesitation, they found themselves in a small room in the opera house. Erik laughed, "Huh, I guess this is what it's like to be on the other side of the wall of the managers' office!"

The Ghost of Christmas Present nodded.

"Yes, quite a comfy little room, isn't it? Of course, not so since they are always disturbed by a certain Opera Ghost", he implied.

Erik scoffed, "They should be on their knees thanking me! I'm the one who made this opera great! Without me, they would be poor beggars on the street!"

The Ghost put his nose up in the air, not wanting to admit that Erik was right. The Phantom of the Opera grinned devilishly.

The doorknob turned, making Erik scramble for his trap-door, but the ghost held him in place.

"It's the same for us as it is with Christmas Past. We will not be seen or heard", he explained to the frantic Phantom.

Then the managers barged into the room. Firmin slammed the door.

"_It's Christmas, Andre, and I believe that we shouldn't have to do what that inane Phantom says!"_

Andre nodded in agreement.

"_Well then! Why don't we begin planning our show for tonight and cast Carlotta as the lead! It's Christmas after all!"_

Erik narrowed his eyes.

"Are they really that dense? Do they honestly assume that my word is not law on one day of the year?"

The Ghost of Christmas Present snorted, "It didn't stop them the first time they came into command of this place!"

Erik stared daggers into the ghost's pale face.

"If you were the de Chagny, I truthfully would murder you", he snarled.

The Ghost didn't say anything, just kept looking into the scene unfolding before them.

"_It's for the best anyway. That poor Daae girl is almost the lead in every show. Besides, she has that sick child to care for", _Andre lamented.

"Susan, isn't it, Erik?"

Erik almost jumped through his skin when the Ghost once again spoke with him.

"Yes, it is", he answered suspiciously. "But surely there is nothing wrong with Christine's child."

The Ghost of Christmas Present didn't take his eyes off of the Opera Ghost as he swirled his hand, changing the scene around him. As the previous scene faded, Erik could hear, "_And for once, we can do what we want with this theater instead of a sadistic ghost!"_

Erik grabbed the air, hoping that there could be a way that he could strangle the manager that said that, but sadly for him, they were already gone (and even if they weren't, he still couldn't grab them, since they would be able to know that he was there).

"_Momma, we're home!" _cried a little child.

It was as if a knife had stabbed Erik in the heart. That little voice… that weak, crying voice… sounded just like Christine.

To his relief, however, it wasn't Christine, for he found her running to the direction of the voice.

"_Susan, Susan, darling, how was it, sweetheart?_" she asked the little child.

"_It was fun, Momma! Papa took me to the cathedral and we met all these people there who wanted to talk to me! Then we went to the opera"-_

"_Susan dear, can you check on the goose for your mother?" _Asked a man who had come inside with the girl? Christine picked her up and took her into the kitchen.

Erik saw the little girl for the first time. She was a small little thing with long, curly blonde hair, a bleached version of her mother's curly brown hair.

"_How was she?" _Christine asked the man as she walked into the living room. The man then emerged from the doorway and made his way over to her.

Erik could see the man when they entered the room. He in all his foppish glory was Raoul de Chagny.

"_She was an angel, as always, dear", _Raoul answered sadly. _"We visited the opera house today."_

Christine stiffened, "_I thought that you didn't want her visiting there."_

"_Yes, but she insisted on going in there and… I couldn't deny her the one last chance to look at the place. Besides, what could _he _do to her now? If he wanted you back, he would have found a way years ago."_

Nodding, Christine continued, "_Well, what happened?"_

Raoul sighed, _"She… she wandered off for a while. I didn't know how, until I saw..._him. _He had picked her up and carried her around I guess. But not really like a loving person, more like someone inspecting an animal. She kept on talking to him, but he grumbled and sat her on the ground. Of course, she didn't go anywhere, but he probably didn't know that. He didn't do anything after that; he just walked away and went through a trap-door in the wall."_

Christine muttered to herself, "_That isn't out of character for him…"_

Susan then called from the kitchen announcing, "_The goose is ready!"_

Raoul went into the kitchen and picked up Susan, taking her into the dining room and setting her down in a run-down chair. The house was not really that big.

Erik turned to the ghost fop and asked in puzzlement, "But I assumed that the de Chagnys"-

The Ghost of Christmas Present shook his head gravely. He explained, "After Raoul ran off with the love of your life, his family didn't support the marriage and therefore didn't support them. It is such a shame for them. He doesn't really have a well-paying job, so the most money that they get is from Christine's meager pay from you."

Erik puffed out his chest a little further, a smile on his face as he said, "So I am the founder of this feast? Hmm, that means that the Viscount should be on his knees crawling to me for mercy instead of holding a grudge against me."

The Ghost glared at the Phantom and exasperatedly explained, "No, you insolent fop! Do you not understand why I am showing this to you?"

However, Erik only would hear what he wished to hear. Therefore he ignored the Ghost and did not hear him make the mistake of calling him "fop". He only saw Christine at that moment and the beautiful little daughter she had. Now if only the stupid de Chagny fop were out of the picture. He looked beside him and realized there were two of them.

"ONE OF YOU IS ENOUGH THANK YOU!" he screamed at the second fop. Then he whipped out his Punjab lasso since this Ghost forgot to take it away from him and tried to strangle him with it. Apparently, Erik had not learned that ghosts cannot be strangled after the first two times of trying this. Poor unhappy Erik had to finally give up since he just realized once again that he was with a ghost.

"Darn you", he mumbled. He looked back and the picture was still there.

"_Susan, would you like to say the prayer?" _Christine asked her daughter. Susan nodded eagerly and began, _"Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for everything you have given to us. Thank you for Momma and Papa and thank you for the feast you have given us. Thank you for sending your Son on this day so that he could save us from our sins later." _She paused for a minute, obviously thinking of what to say next. _"Oh and thank you for Erik who helps us so generously by giving Momma a job and thank you that I got to meet him today. In Jesus name I pray, Amen."_

"_Amen"_, Christine and Raoul echoed, though they both seemed a little concerned about the last thing that Susan had said.

Erik turned to the Ghost, who was still brushing himself off. "I can't believe you ruined my best coat", he mumbled as he did this. Erik ignored the comment and asked, "What's wrong with the girl?"

"Her heart is very weak. It's a miracle that she's even made it this far. She can only stand. She isn't able to stand."

Erik walked closer to the little girl who was now eating her meal.

"What's going to happen to her?" he asked.

"She's going to die!" The Ghost said cheerfully. "If she does, then Raoul can finally get new clothes and not have to pay all those pesky hospital bills."

"What?" Erik spun around and faced the Ghost. "How can you be so cheerful about that? This person is going to _die!"_

The Ghost shrugged and said, "It doesn't matter to you. You kill people all the time and you didn't care about other people dying, remember?"

But as was said before, Erik only remembered what he wished to remember, so he simply said, "No."

Rolling his eyes the Ghost began to speak, but was interrupted by the images before him.

"_Hello, Madame Giry! Hello Meg! What an unexpected surprise!" _Christine was at the door greeting the two women. _"Please, come in."_

"_Thank you, dear", _Madame Giry smiled warmly and walked through the door.

Meg came in to, talking to Christine.

"_Oh, and I found the most gorgeous dress the other day! If only there was another masquerade! Then we could both go dress shopping and I could buy that one! I felt so horrible passing it up!"_

Christine only nodded, but Erik knew now that she did this only to humor Meg. There was not enough money for her to buy another dress. The fact that she wasn't dressed like an upper-class woman should be revealed that to him now. How come he had never noticed that all these years?

He watched helplessly as they began to surround Susan and smother her. It was a classic scene, it really was. Only now did Erik regret not being part of it.

He shook that thought away. Erik knew that if he were there, then he would only talk about how many people he had killed in his life and show off his Punjab. Susan would probably be terrified, Madame Giry would probably nag him for the umpteenth time, Meg would just stand there unaware of anything and keep on talking, and Raoul would faint. Christine…. What would Christine do? She would probably be embarrassed and leave the room.

The scene swirled around him and Erik looked back to see the Raoul looking ghost spinning his little finger to change the scene.

"But that was such a happy scene!" Erik pleaded.

"Sorry, we have to move on", The Ghost countered.

The next scene showed a bridge and about a hundred people under it, warming themselves around pitiful camp fires.

"Let's get closer", the Ghost commanded.

They noticed a little family with a woman and three little children huddled around a small bonfire.

"_Mommy, when is Daddy coming back?" _one of the little children, a boy asked.

"_He'll be back soon, sweetheart. He's only looking for food."_

A little girl to the right piped up, _"Is he going to get chased by that weird masked man again? That happened last time"-_

"_No, dearie, he won't go back there again. He's going to the baker's again. He may get something since it is Christmas."_

The youngest girl in the middle whined, _"Mommy, I am terribly hungry."_

"_I know, dearie, I know."_

Erik looked worriedly at the Ghost.

"But, what about the fund that Giry and the ballet rats"-

"No, there wasn't enough money for all of these people. There are many people in the world like you, Erik, who would rather not donate money to them but would rather spend it on… what, candles?"

Erik looked appalled.

"Those candles are useful! I need at least a little light in my lair! If it were completely dark, then how would I see?"

The Ghost of Christmas Present chuckled, and then grew into a laugh, quite unlike Raoul.

Suddenly, Erik shielded his eyes. There was sunlight! Oh, the cruelty of the sun! Why did he have to bring him here?

"You wanted light, didn't you Phantom? Well, here it is! And it even looks a little like your torture chamber!"

Wow, that was a little too ironic for Erik. He was stuck in his own torture chamber!

**Not as funny as I had hoped. Other chapters were funnier, I know. But as you remember, it says humor after action and adventure. Actually, it should be Drama, but whatever. It's adventure too! I think I'm focusing a little too much on the drama right now in this chapter. Well, the next chapter won't be as funny either, since I have a very good plan for that one that I simply can't pass up.**

**Until this weekend, Please Review!**

**;D**


	6. The Final Ghost and Final Chapter

Erik tried to shield his eyes in the blinding light, but just as it had been when the Ghost of Christmas Past had first visited him, the light seemed to penetrate anything. He fell to the ground, helpless, feeling as though he should just die right there. The rays of the sun were unforgiving as the masked man lay on the ground. His Punjab lasso was still under his cloak. If only he were to find one of his metal trees…

No, he wouldn't fall for the trick! It was his design, after all. He only needed to find the lever.

But when he took his hand away from his eyes, he couldn't see anything except the light.

"Okay, now I'm pretty sure that I didn't make the light, _that _bright. If I had, the whole opera house would have found me and thrown tomatoes at me now." Wait, why was he thinking of tomatoes? Actually, tomatoes didn't sound that bad at the moment. He licked his parched lips. He hated tomatoes, but maybe the water in them would fulfill his thirst.

Suddenly, all in the torture chamber went dark. The heat was suddenly gone and everything became gradually colder. Though he was a creature of darkness, this was an unnatural dark that even he didn't wish to be cloaked in. It was as if a mist of creepy entities, like pink rainbow unicorns, had all gathered together to make the blackness of the night. Erik shuddered at the thought of pink rainbow unicorns. Stupid Raoul wouldn't keep quiet about them when he was around him. The Opera Ghost silently wondered if he only talked nonstop about these specific unicorns just to get on Erik's last nerve or if he truly was fascinated with them. It was not a pleasant thought to have.

One light began to shine in the darkness like one of Erik's candles in his lair. Oh, how he missed his lair and his countless candles! The candles were what made the lair truly frightening, he believed. Of course, he wasn't completely sure. He would have to ask someone else if it were truly creepy to have the candles there.

Erik stayed where he was. The light was not gravitating, in fact, it seemed as though it were repelling. A shadow cast over this light; a silhouette filled the gap. Erik gasped when he saw it. It was a man in a cloak with a veil that shielded his face, like the grim reaper or like his costume in _Don Juan. _A wave of fear came over him, though he thought to himself,_ No Erik! This is just a cheap imitation! They're trying to get to you! They want you to be scared! You're the Phantom of the Opera for heaven's sake! _

It reached out its hand and beckoned him over. He shivered and randomly shouted, "Don't kill me! I'm too beautiful to die!"

The figure lowered its hand slowly and cocked its head.

Erik complied, "Okay, I'm too hideous to die! I was trying to have a good self-esteem for a second! You're just too scary for me!" Yes, he just admitted that he was scared of someone. This is a moment in history to remember. "Can you take off that veil… hood-thingy and show me who you're supposed to look like? It'll make me feel better!"

He heard an annoyed sigh come from the figure and a mist swarmed around them.

"Wait, who are you? Can you not speak?"

The figure was silent.

"Darn you," he muttered. "So you're the Ghost of Christmas yet to come. You are kind of boring. If you do not even speak, then maybe you're not that frightening."

Lightning shot out of the Ghost's fingers. Erik yawned, "I guess Nadir did not tell you that I am not impressed by cheap tricks. Oh well."

He heard the Ghost growl as they entered a scene much like one he had witnessed earlier. The Ghost was not near him; rather, he was once again a silhouette on the wall, pointing to two people on the other side of the room.

Erik was once again in the managers' office, watching the two morons speak amongst themselves.

"_Ha, Andre, he's finally gone!" _Firmin laughed with his friend.

Andre nodded and popped the champagne bottle in his hand.

"_No more death threats, no more silly childish notes, and no more amateur sopranos taking over Carlotta's rightful place!"_

Both men drank the champagne happily when Madame Giry came in.

"_Sirs, I have a note"-_

"_NO!" _The men screamed, shuffling her out. She rolled her eyes and explained, _"It's from Firmin's mother, not from Eri- the Opera Ghost."_

They sighed, happy once more.

Firmin opened the note and read it eagerly.

"_She's coming here to celebrate with us! Let's just hope someone will be able to bring her…"_

"_What about your sister, Monsieur?"_

He shook his head and mouthed, "Coney Island". Giry understood immediately.

Erik turned to the Ghost's shadow.

"Who are they talking about dying?" he was having one of his dumb phantom moments.

The Ghost snapped its fingers and suddenly, Erik saw something else: a dead body in his own lair. It was covered in a sheet of cloth or maybe a curtain, he did not quite know. No! It was his favorite blanket!

"How dare someone use my blanky to cover a dead man? Why not a useless curtain that lines the swan bed or something? That would make much more sense!"

The Ghost for once stood there tangibly and began to uncover the dead man's face.

"No," Erik commanded. "That will not be necessary. I do not need to know who this man is. I know that I have done wrong and that I have killed him- most likely. Just show me something happy. I will remember to not kill anyone in the future." He was somewhat afraid that he would be desperate enough to cover someone with his blanket.

The Ghost stepped back and the scene changed.

They were inside Christine's house again, but she was sitting by herself.

"Where's her husband? Where's Susan?"

The Ghost pointed up the stairs and Erik followed as Christine would have followed, well, him.

In the little girl's room sat Raoul de Chagny, tears running down his too perfect face. Erik glanced down at the bed and saw the covering over a small body.

"No," The Phantom breathed. "No, it can't be true." He spun around to the Ghost. "Speak up for once and tell me that it isn't true!"

The scene dispersed around them and a hazy mist swarmed them again.

"Oh, but it is all too true my dear friend", the Ghost's voice reverberated all around them.

"Oh no, oh no, tell me you're not who I think!" But the voice was unmistakable. There was only one person with that voice.

"I am who you think, Erik. I am who you fear most."

Without thinking, Erik told the Ghost, "Show me something else, you specter! What else will happen if I don't change my ways?"

The Ghost waved its finger and they were in the Opera House once again. Erik sat with the Ghost in the Box Five along with the shadows of the managers and Madame Giry. He looked down at the audience and saw that it wasn't as full as it had once been. He suddenly became angry and yelled at the Ghost.

"Where is the audience? If I am still in charge of this Opera, then there should at least be a full house!"

Carlotta attempted to sing on the stage, but one of her notes went flat. Everyone shivered and even a few people shook their heads and left.

The Ghost replied, "You still haven't figured it out yet, have you?"

Erik scoffed, "Yes, I have, I figured out that you ruined my opera!" He lunged for the Ghost, but the entity only stepped away and yawned.

The scene changed again, this time Firmin and Andre were sitting next to another man, staring at the pieces of rags and other useless junk in front of them. The man looked at the stuff and then back at Andre and Firmin.

"_Do you really expect me to buy these… these… things from you_?"

Both managers laughed and Andre answered, "_Of course not! These aren't the things we are selling! This stuff was lying here when we got here!_" Firmin reached around and shoved the junk off the table and some glass pieces shattered on the ground.

"_Oh_", the man said, unfazed by Andre and Firmin's reaction.

Then Firmin got out a bag and dumped _their _junk onto the table.

It consisted of a lot of unfinished opera pieces and symphonies. The man glanced over these, but didn't show any interest. The finished work of _Don Juan Triumphant _was included with these and a variation of masks fell in line with all of these things. Erik gasped when he saw what was next.

The monkey with the symbols and his blanky-excuse me- blanket which he had named Steve long ago fell next.

"IF THAT MAN DARES TO TOUCH MY MONKEY AND MY BLANKY, HE WILL DIE A PAINFUL DEATH!"

No one stirred, to Erik's dismay. To his horror, the blanket was the first thing he touched.

"_This is very interesting indeed," _he muttered as he examined the blanket. In a rage, Erik grabbed for his Punjab lasso and leaped at the man.

"_It has a very intricate design, red hearts and purple musical notes in a pink background. There has never been anything like it!_" he truly seemed awed by it.

Erik grasped his lasso and tried to wrap it around the man's neck, but it went through him. However, Erik didn't stop trying. He clawed at him for some time and attempted to get the lasso onto his neck, but to no avail. He tried doing the same to Firmin and Andre, but neither of them noticed anything either.

"Why won't you die?" he yelled at them. The Ghost sighed and Erik spun realizing its presence once again.

"Do you remember what the Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present told you?"

Glaring, Erik answered, "Of course I do."

"Well, then obviously, you should know that they can't die."

Erik growled, "Well, they will eventually."

The man observed the monkey next and Erik reached for his lasso again, but the Ghost put a hand on his shoulder and his hand lowered.

"Why are these buffoons selling my most prized possessions?" The Phantom asked the Ghost. "They should know that _Don Juan _is the closest thing that they will ever get to a real Opera and that the monkey and the blanket are just very important!"

"_Very well, I'll give you twenty francs for the monkey, five for each opera and forty for the blanket._"

The managers cheered, giving each other a high-five.

"Hold on, my treasures are worth much more than what he offered! I demand that they reconsider this!" Erik defended.

The Ghost laughed, "You aren't there to see it."

Then the mist came around them again, engulfing them.

The Opera Ghost coughed and the figure only stood before him.

"Show me who you are", Erik demanded profoundly.

There was no answer.

"Show me!"

The mist dispersed, revealing a cemetery. There were headstones with the names of thousands of people that Erik had never met. Nothing stood out to him, and the Ghost made no move to show him where he should be looking.

"Why have you brought me here?" he asked simply. But he was not prepared for the Ghost's reply.

"**Can't go back there"**

Erik decided to play along and sang:

"**We must return"**

The Ghost came closer and continued:

"**His eyes will find us there**

**Those eyes that burn**

**And if he has to kill a thousand men**

**The Phantom of the Opera will kill…**

**And kill again"**

Erik pulled the veil off of the Ghost only to find who he didn't expect.

"You're… you're….."

The Ghost grinned fiendishly and said, "You."

And it made complete sense in a strange and bizarre way. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to come had used Christine's voice, proving his ventriloquism and had some of the mannerisms of the Opera Ghost.

He neared Erik as the poor man drew back in fear. The real ghost continued, "You fear me the most, Erik. You do not even fear Christine like you fear me. You're afraid of where your actions may take you; what road you will travel. You fear your temper and your disposition. Most of all, you fear your face."

The ghost ripped off Erik's mask and laughed cruelly. Flames shot from the ground and Erik found his grave before him. He was scared of this ghost beyond belief. Hmmm, this is what it must have been for people when they met him… except this ghost was obviously more insane than him.

Surprisingly, he wasn't afraid of his grave, but when he looked at it, it reflected all that he had done. Erik sighed and listened to the mocking laugh of the ghost Erik. He was wrong to hurt the managers for money. He was wrong to hate the de Chagny with a passion (well….). He was wrong to still lust after Christine. He was wrong for taking over the opera house.

Ignoring what was supposed to frighten him, he commanded the ghost, "Take me home."

The ghost was taken aback. "You aren't scared?"

Erik looked at him sternly, "Does this look like a scared face to you?"

"Well, it's a scar_y _face, but it doesn't look scared…"

Erik rolled his eyes as the ghost snapped his fingers and a flying rainbow unicorn overcame the Phantom of the Opera.

oOoOoOoOo

Erik sat up in the coffin, sweat on his brow, screaming, "DIE UNICORNS, DIE!"

He looked around to find no unicorns around him whatsoever. It had been a dream, or so he assumed.

"Erik!" a voice called. It sounded like Madame Giry, but for all he knew, it could have been the Ghost of Christmas Past again, bugging him about something else.

The woman came rushing up to him and told him, "Erik, you need to come with me quickly"-

"Please, my dear Ghost, I do not wish to see another scene from my life", he waved her off.

She cocked her head and asked the Opera Ghost, "What are you talking about? I am no Ghost."

He looked at her again with a look of apology and said in a cool tone, "Forgive me, Madame, I believed you were someone else. Now what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Giry sighed and told him, "The managers are in a panic since they don't know what kind of opera they should play this season. You told them not to show a Christmas Opera, so they have limited options…"

"Then let them show a Christmas Opera", Erik snorted, disinterested at the obvious answer to the situation. "And don't let mademoiselle de Chagny play the lead in this either. I believe she needs to spend more time with her daughter."

Puzzled, Giry questioned, "Why have a change of heart now? Only yesterday, you sent a note to the managers telling them the complete opposite"-

"I have the right to change my mind, do I not, Madame?" Erik raised an eyebrow at her as he walked past her to one of his many trapdoors to the world above. "After all, I'm only human."

And he disappeared through the trapdoor.

Later that day, exposed to the world, Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, was not in his opera house, but on the busy streets of Paris, trying to find his way to Christine's home.

"Excuse me, Monsieur, I was wondering if"- a man walked by Erik as if he had said nothing at all. Yes, he, the Opera Ghost, was asking random people on the street for directions.

He spotted someone else and asked them, "Pardon me, but do you know where 1276 West Street"- that person passed him up too. He went on like this for quite some time, until a woman exited her home directly in front of him and walked by him. He caught her arm and asked her where he could find Christine's home.

"Erik, it is me- Christine!"

How come he hadn't noticed it before? He should have, but for some reason, she didn't quite look the same in the exposed daylight as she did in his dark cellar…

Surprisingly, Raoul didn't completely attack Erik when he walked through the door. It was a shock for everyone that they were in the same room together with one of them still alive.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU STUPID MONSTER-GHOST-THING!" Raoul yelled at the top of his lungs. Erik pulled out his Punjab lasso for the moment and Raoul shut his mouth.

"It is okay, Raoul. I invited him to celebrate Christmas with us. He never spent it with anyone before, so he needs family this year."

He only nodded, still scared of Erik.

Erik cleared his throat and asked uncertainly, "Where is your daughter, Susan?"

Christine's eyes widened, "Oh I almost forgot to get her from the other room!"

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Erik said, "Allow me."

He went into the other room and found the little girl with her small little blonde curls in her bed, fast asleep. To his relief, her breathing was strong, though slow. He was determined to make her well again.

Gently, Erik roused her.

She opened her eyes sleepily and gasped, "Are you an Angel coming to take me to Heaven?"

He laughed softly and informed her, "No, little one, I am no angel. Besides, you have a long time before you need to worry about that."

She smiled and asked, "Well, who are you, Monsieur? My mother tells me to never talk to strangers."

He pondered this for a moment and finally answered, "I am simply your friend. Come, I'll take you into the other room."

Susan let him lift her onto his shoulders and they both entered the kitchen where the girl's parents sat.

Erik soon became a friendlier Opera Ghost as he realized that what he had done in the past was apparently wrong (how he thought he was in the right before…?). He would no longer demand things, but he merely gave the managers advice and helped them make the Opera a fun place to be.

He finally took Madame Giry's advice and used the mailbox for his notes. The managers appreciated it greatly.

The families on the street didn't starve that season, because Erik finally contributed to Giry's cause for them. The ballet rats greatly appreciated Christine delivering his money instead of him. The Opera Ghost was creepy- it was just a fact.

Lastly, Erik became a second father to Susan, who actually didn't die. Sadly, Raoul didn't die either, but he finally had to accept Erik since he was actually kind now. Erik made her a walking stick with a little angel carved into the top to remind her that her time on Earth was not over yet. They would go on long walks together and go to the Opera House. She even got to go to his lair and learn about the trap doors. Her heart became stronger as well as her voice, which he trained with great expertise.

And there ends the story of The Phantom's Carol. Why it even has carol in there, no one knows. Erik never sang one carol in the whole thing.

Then Erik sang, "Oh Come Ye Merry Gentlemen" in his beautiful angelic voice.

Never mind, he sang a Christmas Carol!

**Oh this is the end! Hope you liked it and sorry that it isn't Christmas anymore! Okay, thank you and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!**


End file.
